


methods

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Gen, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Milwaukee Admirals, Other, There's Nothing Else to Do on a Bus Back from Iowa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: Things to do with your cranky teammate on a bus. #MidwestRoadtrips





	

**Author's Note:**

> Um, it wouldn't be an Ads season if I didn't write something with no actual pairing? This one of those stories that assumes kneeling is part of life in the AHL. No one takes their clothes off (because they are all on a bus). 
> 
> I guessed on a bunch of these nicknames but ~whatever, when in doubt just add a -y.

Before they walk out to the bus, Petter sees Smitty pull Richie aside, one hand on the lapel of Richie's coat. He's too far from them to hear what Smitty's saying, but he's wearing his Captain face, and Richie's shoulders are up around his ears. If Petter had to guess, Richie's getting told he better find some way to calm down before anyone else notices. 

Petter's been on a few teams where the players like to keep stuff like this internal, closing ranks before the coaching or training staff notices someone's about to boil over. Since he's been here, he's only seen Smitty wear this expression a few times. Were they at home, Richie would disappear to the small quiet room with one of the captains while everyone else trickled out to go home, but they're boarding a bus now, with several hours on the road ahead of them.

He goes to the back of the bus, preferring the way it feels dimmer back here. He lets Pinky have the window seat and watches Richie slide up to Bus a couple seats ahead, lean in, and say something. Bus nods and puts a hand around Richie's wrist, keeping him slightly out of the way as the other guys find seats and settle in. 

Part of the way you do it here is that you have to ask to kneel for someone, you don't get told to drop, especially for one of the older guys. "You're really on the old man squad now, Granny," Smitty said, mid-February. "But if one of the kids asks and you don't feel okay with it, just send them to me or Bus or Paysey, or Pards if they're really squirming and you think they're gonna have a hard time with it. Don't send them to Ribs, though, it's not his scene."

No one's asked him here, but he'd done it a few times for Finny in Toronto, and that always went fine. Finny was easy; he'd only needed someone to help him direct his focus, and while he'd liked Petter to keep one hand on his thigh the whole time, the question of sex had never come up. Petter's still not sure what he would have chosen to do if it had. 

"Granny, I'm crashing," Pinky warns him, untangling a set of earbuds that he plugs into his phone. 

Petter doesn't mind; he'd rather keep an eye on what's happening a few seats up. "Okay."

Pinky pulls on the sleep mask he wears to block out the highway lights. "Can you wake me up when we're close to home?"

"Sure."

Almost everyone's settled, or at least on board. Petter's phone is nagging him to reboot, so he just turns it off for now, then watches Bus put one of the thin folded bus blankets down on the aisle next to his seat. He must say something to Richie, because Richie takes his coat, jacket, and shoes off, putting the shoes under Bus' seat, before carefully kneeling down, facing the back of the bus. They pull away from the curb and Petter sees him sway with the movement, but stiffly. Mike puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Petter's sure he's not the only one keeping an eye on them, but everyone's pretty spread out through the bus, and the only people behind him are Paysey, Whitey, and Florey. Strategic placement, as they're all guys Richie could go to if he needed. The noise level starts to drop the further they get from the arena. Almost everyone is settling down to nap or mess around on their phones. He can hear Bus say, "You're doing fine, Richie," even as Richie makes a face and tries to resettle. "You need another blanket?"

Petter sees Richie nod, and Bus tucks another folded blanket beneath his knees. 

Paysey leans forward slight from behind Petter and murmurs, "Don't think it's working too well."

"Only been a minute," Petter replies.

"I know you are all watching me," Richie says, sounding cross, and Paysey laughs softly in Petter's ear.

Bus squeezes Richie's upper arm, then slides his hand around to cup the back of his neck. "Don't worry about them looking at you. Just focus on my hand, okay?"

"Okay."

Petter tips his head back to whisper to Paysey. "Is Gunny okay? He looked - I don't know how to describe."

"He's all right. He's better at letting stuff roll of him than some of the rest of us are." Paysey flicks his fingers against Petter's arm. "He'll probably just fall asleep on Mazzy. Richie, you're still squirming, bud."

Richie makes an annoyed noise. "I can't -"

"Come here," Paysey says.

Bus scratches his fingers through Richie's hair, then nudges him towards Paysey. "Go."

"I have to stand up?" Richie asks, and the pout on his face is evident.

"Yes," Bus replies firmly.

Richie rocks back on his heels, then up onto his feet in one smooth motion - Petter sees Bus' hand on his hip so he's not jostled by the movement of the bus - and picks up his blankets. 

"I got that, Richie," Paysey says quietly, and takes the blankets from Richie's hands. He spreads them out on the rubber aisle next to his seat as Richie waits next to Petter. 

Petter touches his arm softly. "I'm here too if you need me," he says, because he feels like it's best to offer, especially when there's clearly still an unsettled buzz under Richie's skin that Bus touching him lightly had done nothing to soothe. 

"Thanks, Granny," Richie whispers. 

Paysey's hand comes up to grip his elbow. "Down - but just softly, Richie. You were feeling it too hard before. I want you to feel like you're kneeling _on_ someone, you don't wanna dig your knees into them."

Petter feels Richie's shiver at that, as his arm brushes along Petter's arm when he folds himself down onto the makeshift cushion. "Perfect," Paysey says, and combs gentle fingers through Richie's hair. "Now close your eyes. Be still. Just breathe."

(Petter wonders, for a moment, if they were in a hotel or someone's apartment, if anyone would volunteer to be knelt on. He's never done it, but he feels like that would probably put both guys under - a lot of responsibility. Probably Smitty could handle that, or he guesses Paysey, since what he's doing for Richie seems to be working better that Bus' much more light-handed approach.)

Petter pushes up the armrest of the seat so that he can drop his arm and let his hand rest on Richie's back, feeling him breathing in and out. "Nice, Granny," Paysey murmurs. "This okay, Richie? Don't talk, just nod if you're good."

Richie nods. Petter watches Paysey touch his face. Richie twitches slightly under Petter's hand, so Petter strokes his back slowly. "Breathe, Richie," Paysey repeats. "Count to three, each breath. Slow. I know it feels kinda like drowning right now, but me and Granny won't let you. Breathe."

Richie's breath hitches once more, but after that he starts to calm down, and Petter can feel him taking slow, even breaths. "Good," Paysey says. 

"Christ, Paysey, how'd you get so good at this?" Bus asks quietly, clearly having turned in his seat to watch. 

"Learned from the best," Paysey says smugly, and a low whistle Petter knows to be Smitty's comes from further up the aisle. "Good times in Wilkes-Barre."

"Not much else to do in Wilkes-Barre," Bus says dryly, and Petter can't help but chuckle.

Paysey's also grinning, one hand still touching Richie's face. "I think I turned out okay, eh?"

"The best, baby," Bus assures him, amid more quiet laughter.

Petter looks down at Richie again. "Better, _dyr_?" he asks. "Less anger?"

"Yes, thanks," Richie murmurs. "What's that mean, that word?"

"Expensive." He strokes Richie's back. "Could also say _rik_ , or _rikling_ , different meanings for rich, depending on if you talk about money kind of rich, or plenty, like a lot."

Paysey leans a little around the seat. "We having Swedish lessons?"

"Trying to find Richie a good Swedish nickname," Petter tells him with a grin.

Paysey strokes two fingers along Richie's jaw. It looks like it feels good. "What'd they call you in Val-d'Or?"

"Still Richie."

"No one ever said hockey players were creative," Bus says, resettling in his seat and picking up his phone.

"You less mad now?" Paysey asks Richie, who nods slowly. "If you're uncomfortable, you can get up, but I want you to stay there if you're not uncomfortable."

Richie nods and doesn't move. After a minute, Petter feels his breathing slow again, clearly being counted, and slides his hand up to rest lightly on the back of Richie's neck, his pinkie along the exposed strip of skin above Richie's collar. 

"That's it," Paysey murmurs. "So easy, all you need to do is breathe and let us take care of you."

He moves his leg out into the aisle and Richie tips forward a little to lean against his thigh, sighing. Petter sweeps his hand slowly down Richie's back once more, then up again, then tucks his fingertips under Richie's loosened shirt collar, right where his pulse beats the strongest. It's mostly quiet now, any conversation kept to a low murmur. Pinky's completely passed out next to Petter with his head on a balled-up sweatshirt, and Petter can see Florey is still watching them, but Whitey's asleep on Florey's shoulder with one earbud in and the other dangling down his chest. 

Paysey slides his fingers through Richie's hair in a slow rhythm, touching Petter's hand with every sweep. "I probably shouldn't let him stay down too long," Paysey murmurs in Petter's ear. "And Smitty'll have my hide if I let him fall asleep on the floor."

Petter can tell from his breathing that Richie's not asleep, but he's reached that place where none of the bad details about the game matter anymore, and Petter knows that's hard to get to sometimes. "Give him a few more minutes?"

"For sure." Paysey traces a fingertip over Richie's ear. "You do this in Toronto?"

"Not much. Only for one guy."

Richie turns his head slightly, and Paysey runs gentle fingers over the exposed part of his face. "Thanks for helping me," he says to Petter.

Petter shakes his head slightly. "No problem, really." He watches Paysey catch his thumb on Richie's lower lip, sweep back and forth for a moment. 

"I should let him up," Paysey says, and he sounds almost disappointed. "And we should really get a real mat for the bus, and stop using these stupid fucking blankets."

Petter lets gravity tug his hand back down the length of Richie's back, feeling the bumps of his spine underneath his shirt, until he gets to the waistband of his slacks. Then he rubs his palm over Richie's lower back, right above his belt, and Richie makes a barely audible noise. 

"Richie, time to open your eyes," Paysey says. He leans forward slightly, one hand pushing on Richie's shoulder, making him sit up. "You did great. You feel okay?"

"Tired."

"Yeah, buddy, me too," Paysey chuckles. "There's an empty seat, if you want to sleep here, but first you gotta get up."

Petter holds onto Richie's arm as he gets carefully to his feet. When he meets Richie's gaze, Richie turns slightly pink, barely visible in a dull flash of lights. "Thanks, Granny."

"That was really nice, Richie," Petter feels okay in saying. He squeezes Richie's wrist lightly. "Get some sleep."

"Come on, just slide over me," he hears Paysey say, and then the back of Petter's seat gets bumped for a second. "There. You want a water or anything before you go to sleep?"

Whatever Richie says in reply is muffled. Petter glances back through the small space between the headrests and sees him curled up with his head on Paysey's lap, what looks like the blankets buffering the gap of the armrest, with Paysey's arm draped over his shoulder so his fingertips brush Richie's throat. 

" - next time ask you and Granny first," Richie is murmuring. "And not on the bus."

Paysey sees Petter looking and smiles lazily. "You bet."

**Author's Note:**

> "Adam Payerl is already a tag!" Right, Lake, because he was in the dick pics story you wrote last year. The one I still can't believe I wrote. Every time I say "the dick pics story" I crack up.
> 
> I thought about tagging this "outsider POV", but Petter's participating enough that it's probably not applicable? Let me know if you think otherwise.


End file.
